So many great moments in mistakes. I feel the Black Sun in my eyes. Burning holes from my chest to my feet. I'm having a depressed day. It always happens before a big day like a birthday or an anniversary. It's like my body needs to make room for more happiness. Seeing it happen and knowing doesn't lessen the feel for some reason. It's like if you know the fire is hot then you should know better then to touch it.
I feel the self-immolation of this mindset. I am the metal and it is the magnet sitting in salt water.
I read this book once called Chinese Takeout. It's written by Arthur Nersesian. He writes about all the types of artists I thought I would be. Starving and insane with focus. The end up with everything and nothing all at once. He loves to write about artists. The narcissist in me loves things about artists.
This year I'm planning so many paintings in my head. I want all these things and a book. I'm not sure how to finish my book either. I can't be happy with it not being perfect. I need to hold the egg and it not crack and somehow become a phoenix before my eyes.
madness.
